


Depth

by blue--phantom (twilightscribe)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Deepthroating, Kinktober, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prompt Fic, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 10:32:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16262411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightscribe/pseuds/blue--phantom
Summary: “You wondered if… if my mouth would feel just as good. Do you… do you want to find out?”Written for the day one prompt for 2018's Kinktober.





	Depth

Nerves settle and twist low in his stomach, his heart flutters in his throat, thudding when he swallows heavily. Twisting his hands in front of him does little to alleviate the anxiety, but he does so anyway because it’s a little tick of his that he’s never quite been able to shake.

Large, callused hands gently tangle themselves in his hair, and there’s warm lips against his forehead, his temple, “What troubles you, my love?”

And he takes a deep breath, lets his eyes close for a moment, because he needs to gather his courage. He can do this, knows that he can. All he needs to do is voice his request.

It takes more than he thought it would, he swallows down the doubts, the self-consciousness, and opens his mouth, “I… I want to…”

The words seem to stick in his mouth and, he realizes a little late, he doesn’t really _know_ how to ask for what he wants. In the beginning, when he had set himself upon this course, he had thought it would be so easy; all he needed to do is ask.

But giving voice to his desires has never been an easy task. Even now, when it’s just to two of them, in this space where he’s safe and he can have anything that he desires. _All he need do is ask_. Desire, though, is a tangled thing for him; never easy and difficult to speak of. His have always had to come second, there is always something greater at stake.

Magnai’s hands are smooth, strength pooling under the skin, but his touch is so gentle and soft that it could almost bring tears to his eyes. His eyes glitter in the light from the torches, warm and molten, and there’s concern there, too, hovering just below the surface. He says nothing, though, simply continues to stroke his face gently and wait for him to speak.

Swallowing again, he tries to find the words, but fails yet again. He frowns, then leans up, brushing his lips against Magnai’s.

Though there’s a tremor in his hands, he ignores it and presses his hands to Magnai’s chest. Slowly, he drags them lower, and lower still, till he can feel the outline of his cock against his hand. Ducking his head, he sucks in a deep breath, before peering up at Magnai through his eyelashes and bangs.

“Please, I…” He sucks his bottom lip in, worries it with his teeth. “I… I don’t...”

“Wyn.”

Magnai uses a hand to tip his head back, so that their eyes meet. His brow is furrowed, eyes dark, but his voice is soft when he speaks, “What troubles you?”

“I’m not troubled,” Wyn says, slowly. “I just… I want to… I want to do _this_ for you.”

Though it’s awkward and clumsy, he wraps his hand around the outline of Magnai’s cock and squeezes.

“That first night,” Wyn begins. He swallows, hard, then continues softly, “You wondered if… if my mouth would feel just as good. Do you… do you want to find out?”

He sees the flicker of surprise that flits across Magnai’s face. It’s quickly replaced by a stormy, dark look that Wyn knows well as _want_.

And there’s a tremor now, too, running through Magnai as he gently runs his knuckles along Wyn’s jaw. His eyes, though, remain fixed on Wyn’s mouth, “You want this?”

Wyn nods, leaning into the touch and nuzzling against Magnai’s hand, “Yes. May I? Please?”

The kiss is soft, warm, but with the barest hint of a hard edge. Magnai’s lips brush against his when he pulls away, “You know well that I will never stop you if you truly desire something of me.”

He smiles, despite the nerves still coiled tight in his belly, and nods. For while he _does_ know that – a given with how many times Magnai has said as much – the reassurance is always nice.

When he reaches for the ties of Magnai’s clothes, his hands are shaking. He has to take yet another deep, steadying breath, before it subsides enough for him to manage. They’ve done this before countless times, yet Wyn still feels as awkward as his first – excited and unsure of himself.

Magnai’s hands, in contrast, are steady as he helps Wyn. And his touch is, as always, reassuring against Wyn’s own – rough and callused from a life spent on the Steppe, confident where Wyn’s uncertain.

Chucking Wyn gently under the chin, Magnai smiles at him, “I will enjoy anything you do, Wyn.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and nods, hand pressed against the fabric of Magnai’s trousers – just above the truly impressive tent made by his erection. And, for a moment, Wyn is content to let his hand trace the outline of Magnai’s cock through the heavy fabric, still a little in awe in the knowledge that this reaction is all for _him_.

Strangely, his fingers do not tremble when he reaches for Magnai’s belt. He’s a little impressed with himself, as he tosses it aside and then lets Magnai’s trousers drop to the ground. His breath catches in his throat when Magnai’s cock is revealed.

The differences between them are quite striking, especially when he’s afforded such a close view as he is now.

Wyn’s well aware that, for a Hyur at least, he’s considered to be small. He’s petite and slight, with a build better suited to studying and the casting and crafting of spells than wielding a greatsword or axe on the front line. True, he’s had staff training – which has lead to a lean, muscular build – but he’s well aware that he cannot match Magnai’s pure physical, brute strength.

Almost absently, he trails his fingers along the markings that decorate Magnai’s hip bones. It’s strange, he thinks, they’re warm to the touch and catch against the calluses on his own fingers. He traces absent designs and can hear an answering rumble of approval from deep in Magnai’s chest.

Magnai knocks him gently from his train of thought, brushing his knuckles against Wyn’s cheek, “Take your time, my love.”

_My love_.

He nods and presses a light, fleeting kiss to the palm of Magnai’s hand.

On his knees, he has an even better view of Magnai’s cock. So close, it’s a thing of beauty, stretching out from between Magnai’s thighs towards his face. The most obvious difference between the two of them is the lack of hair – rather, where there should be hair on Magnai, there is instead expanses of black scale markings.

Wyn trails a finger along the edge of the one that rises from the base of Magnai’s cock. He peeks up at Magnai, “Are these unique to you?”

“Aye… each Xaela’s markings are unique to them and their familial line. Tribes will usually show some similarity, however.” There’s a tremble in Magnai’s touch as he runs his fingers through Wyn’s hair in a reassuring touch.

Wyn hums thoughtfully. Magnai is really the only Xaela that he’s been so intimate with before – well, the _only_ one he’s ever been intimate with. And it’s… strange, just a little, to only really be acquainting himself with Magnai’s body now, after all they have been through and done.

But then Wyn realizes that’s difficult when usually _Magnai_ is the one in control and doing all the work.

He traces the line of scales down Magnai’s hip, follows it into the curve of his inner thigh and feels the shiver under his fingers. Letting out a heavy breath, he leans in and, as he inhales, can smell Magnai and it’s a deep musk that sets his senses alight.

Wyn lets his fingers guide him, first, trailing along the swirls and lines of Magnai’s markings, but not touching his cock. Not quite yet. Then, gradually, and slowly, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to the head of it. Almost as though to say ‘thank you’ for the pleasure it has granted him previously.

Magnai shudders, his fingers tightening briefly in Wyn’s hair, “Wyn, are you _teasing_ me?”

“No, I’m getting _acquainted_.”

So close, Magnai smells like sweat and leather and something indescribable that Wyn has come to associate as _home_. He’d quite like to bury himself in it, but that seems a little rude and thoughtless, but…

Sucking in a deep breath, Wyn dives straight in.

Opening his mouth and, making certain to be careful of his teeth, he swallows Magnai’s cock to the root.

It causes some _truly_ inspired swearing from Magnai. Wyn will have to ask him to teach him what it all means.

The taste is saltier than he expects and his throat complains, but Wyn’s content. He hums, peering up at Magnai, trying to wordlessly ask him _is this alright?_

“W-Wyn…”

And through everything, Wyn has _never_ heard Magnai stutter. He wonders if he’s done something wrong. Should he pull off? He rests his hands against Magnai’s thighs, prepares himself to pull back, but then Magnai’s hand is at the back of his head, cupping it gently, and he can only peer up at him.

“Perfect,” Magnai murmurs. His other hand trails down Wyn’s cheek, a finger lightly caressing the line of his jaw. “You feel so good, Wyn. Do not stop.”

Happiness spirals up his spine and if his mouth and throat were not full of cock, then he would probably be grinning and nodding uncontrollably. But instead, he hums, pleased with himself, and busies himself with doing his utmost to drive Magnai over the edge.

Wyn’s a little surprised, though, as he works Magnai’s cock with his mouth, because Magnai does not last as long as he usually does.

He spills quickly into Wyn’s mouth, with a jerk of his hips forcing his cock in that much deeper and causing Wyn to gag just a little. It’s all he can do to swallow and keep swallowing, before he can be overwhelmed by the sheer amount that Magnai spills.

It’s a _very_ different experience to having Magnai inside of him.

Pulling back, he wipes away the spit and cum that’s dribbled out at the corners of his mouth with a thumb. His jaw is sore, as is his throat, and he’s quite sure that if he spoke, his voice would sound as ragged as it feels. Rather than wipe his hands on the rug under his knees, he licks his thumb clean.

Cum has a very strange taste, he thinks. Very salty, but not altogether unpleasant. Perhaps it’s an acquired taste. He will need more practice.

Opening his mouth, he cranes his head back to ask Magnai a question but–

Magnai drops down to his knees in front of him, cups Wyn’s face with trembling hands, and kisses him deeply; tongue plunging straight into Wyn’s mouth and chasing down the taste of himself on Wyn’s tongue.

Wyn will not lie, he makes a squeak in the back of his throat and tumbles backwards, bringing Magnai with him.

“You continue to surprise me,” Magnai murmurs, when he lets Wyn up for air. His face is split in a huge smile and he nuzzles against him, practically purring.

“Enjoyed that, did you?”

“Very much so.”

“I’m glad, then.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Prompt:** deep-throating  
>  **Words:** 1878 words
> 
> Written for one of the choices for day one of 2018's Kinktober. Because I decided – kind of belatedly – that I wanted to take part. So now I need to get caught up on ten days of smut. Wish me luck.
> 
> Cross-posted to [my tumblr](http://graysonflynn.tumblr.com), where you can find me being weird 24/7what and kinky on occasion.


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